


The Weight of Forgiveness

by emmawicked



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, References to Undertale Genocide Route, Suicidal Thoughts, suicide attempt (mentioned)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-10-08 02:11:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17377598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmawicked/pseuds/emmawicked
Summary: Frisk doesn't remember all of the timelines, but that doesn't stop them from having repercussions.





	The Weight of Forgiveness

Frisk doesn’t really remember all the paths they’ve taken. Doesn’t always want to remember. They sometimes get flashes when Sans’s eye flashes blue. When they dig their nails in and see blood. When the hilt of a knife fits so perfectly in their grip.

Sans remembers, Frisk suspects. Maybe not everything, but enough. They wonder how he can look at them in the eye.

“hey kid, you okay?”

Frisk blinks and nods. Sans’s eye sockets aren’t dark like they are in their memory, they have white pinpricks of light instead of a chilling void.

“cat got your tongue?”

**Kinda _,_** Frisk signs.

“wanna talk about it?”

After a moment, Frisk shakes their head.

“okay kid.” Sans took another sip of Tropical Punch flavored capri sun, eye sockets fixed on the TV screen. Frisk pretends to watch the cooking show, munching on a bowl of caramel popcorn. Occasionally, their eyes flick over to Sans. The skeleton is their favorite babysitter, despite the certainty in Frisk’s bones that he had killed them over and over again.

Maybe they deserved it? Frisk doesn’t think Sans is the type of person, or monster, to kill an innocent person. Frisk doesn’t remember doing anything bad. Only remembers a coldness in their chest and a loss of control. A strange dark nothingness and a voice in their head. But even the voice hadn’t truly been in control…

Frisk snaps to get Sans’s attention and the skeleton turns to look at them.

**Do… what do you remember about being underground?**

Sans lets out a bark of laughter.

“i remember everything, kid. why?”

**Did you ever feel like… the days felt the same?**

“… sometimes, kid. that’s what happens when you get trapped underground for a couple hundred years.”

**No. Different.**

“what do you mean?”

Frisk hesitates, hands quivering in the air. They think about the random shooting pains they get in their chest. Their back. Their throat. They think about the irrevocable feeling that they’ve caused hurt in those around them, even if those same smiling faces can’t remember it. Even if Frisk can’t remember it. But maybe…

**Do you remember?** Frisk begs Sans with their eyes as they begin to water. **Do you remember me?**

Sans looks at them with a strange glint in his eye socket.

“i remember when you were not you, kid, but not in the way you think.” Frisk sees retribution in his gaze and shrinks underneath the weight of it. Their hands stay tucked under their thighs.

“i don’t remember much besides what i stashed away in a safe place. i don’t… i don’t have any real memories besides my journals.”

**What journals?**

“they contained my research about the anomaly. i don’t think i ever expected to have quite so many though.” Sans lets out a humorless chuckle. “i almost ran the underground out of paper.”

**Did you write about…** Frisk’s hands still. **Do they talk about the bad things?**

“you mean how you killed my brother and half the underground over and over because you were _bored_?”

**… Yes.**

Frisk can’t remember, but that doesn’t stop them from being crushed under the weight of their guilt. Their dreams are true: every last one. The blood. The dust. The dark void and the peculiar absence that exists between worlds, between timelines. The true anomaly lives there. Lived there. Frisk can’t be sure now, too long has gone between resets. Maybe the anomaly found peace. Somehow, Frisk doubts it.

**I’m so sorry Sans.**

Sans laughs. “sorry doesn’t bring my brother back. actually, i guess it does. you get a pass on that one.”

**Do they remember?**

“they don’t remember shit. they don’t remember the centuries of pain you put us through.”

Frisk sinks deeper into the couch cushions.

**Why are you here? Why do you act so… friendly?**

“because kid, i like to keep an eye on you. just in case. and i like your mom and i owe her, i wouldn’t do anything to hurt her. even if that means i have to play nice with the person who single-handedly destroyed the underground.”

**Not in this timeline.**

Sans eyes them. “no kid, not in this timeline. count yourself lucky on that one.”

**I won’t hurt anyone. I’m not like that now.**

“i know kid. if you were-” His eye sockets go pitch black. “-you wouldn’t be here right now.”

Frisk feels an icy razor blade kiss down the line of their spine. They shiver.

**Will you ever trust me?**

“… i doubt it kid.”

Frisk isn’t surprised, but it doesn’t stop the sinking disappointment in their chest.

“kid… it’s not personal. i’m just not the forgiving type.”

**I know _,_** they sign. **I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry-** Sans cuts them off by grabbing their hands.

“you don’t have to apologize, kid. i appreciate it- but it doesn’t mean anything. what’s done is done. or not done, i guess.” Sans seems to note the bitter disappointment on their face. Sans lets go and there are white lines in their skin from the hard bone pressing into their flesh. Frisk turns their head to the TV, watching one of the contestants making a raspberry vinaigrette as they attempt to staunch their tears. It doesn’t work and salt spills onto their cheeks anyway.

Frisk doesn’t think about the day they climbed the mountain very often. They had never expected to return. Never expected to land at the bottom. Never expected to feel anything past the terror rising in their throat as they fell through the pitch black air. Sometimes they wonder if their friends be better off. Frisk’s eyes slide towards the skeleton sitting on the other side of the couch. They know Sans would be better off without evidence of a thousand different timelines of death and violence and bittersweet endings.

**… I’m sorry, Sans. You deserve better. You all deserve better than me.** Frisk can hardly quiet their sobs, thick snot bubbling out of their nose. Their breath comes out in short, fast bursts as they try to make themself stop crying.

Sans hesitates, eyeing the sobbing child. He doesn’t hesitate long before scooting over and tugging Frisk into his lap.

“hey kid, you did your best this time around. that counts for something.” Frisk lets out a loud wail and Sans starts to rock them. He rubs their back in firm circles with one hand.

**Won’t reset. Promise.**

“i know, kid. i know.”

Sans holds them until their sobs subside into sniffles and it’s late into the night. Frisk’s eyelids are heavy and they make no attempt to keep them open. They’re still mostly awake when they feel Sans pick them up and carry them to bed. The skeleton even tucks them into their bed, pulling Toriel’s homemade quilt up to their chin.

“goodnight kid.” He turns, but Frisk tugs at his sleeve.

**Thank you.** Sans’s eye sockets glow slightly in the dark and Frisk thinks for a moment that they soften.

“no problem kid, sweet dreams.” Sans turns out the light when he leaves, but Frisk stays awake until they hear the front door open.

“Sans! How was Frisk?”

“awesome. we ate mac and cheese and trashed the place.”

“Oh Sans! You silly bones!”

“how was your evening miss toriel?”

“How many times must I tell you to call me Tori? And it was _fin_ -tastic.”

“undyne was that much fun, huh?”

“Absolutely! She and Alphys are very excited for the wedding.”

Frisk drifts off slightly as they talk, but they’re still mostly awake when Toriel visits their room.

“Hello, Frisk.” Frisk relaxes as Toriel kisses their forehead, tension draining out of their body. “Goodnight, my child.”

Frisk only falls asleep after Toriel quietly shuts their door and pads down the hall. They hope for dreams of good timelines and peace and a world where Sans looks at them with kindness and affection instead of distrust. They hope for the future and the softness of sleep. Most of all, they hope for forgiveness.

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you like my writing & wanna talk to me follow my tumblr @emmawicked


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